


Celebrity Skin

by KeepGoing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Misses Stiles, Derek is clueless, F/M, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles is an ass, derek and chris own a construction company, derek and scott become best friends, derek and scott live together, derek builds his own house, derek has tattoos, isaac has sex with chris argent, scott and lydia find eachother, stiles dates zachary quinto, stiles is an oscar winning actor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Derek feels his cell phone vibrating in the tight pocket of his jeans and he shucks off his gloves and balances it between his ear and shoulder as he cranks the lever on the bulldozer. </i>
  <br/><i>“What’s up, Scott?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Have you seen the news?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Derek turns the engine off on the large machine and leans back in the padded seat. The sounds of drilling and cranes all around him cause him to press his ear uncomfortably against the receiver to hear the Alpha. “Yeah. I almost threw my remote through the TV.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Scott sighs on the other end of the phone. “Good thing you didn’t. I refuse to replace another TV.” He pauses. “You know he’s coming here, right?"Derek scrubs his hand over his face and rests his head back against his seat; eyes sliding shut.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i> <i>“Yeah, I figured. It is Stiles, after all.”</i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrity Skin

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic forever. Just so you know its un-beta'd. All the mistakes are mine. Be kind. 
> 
> I've had this idea in my head for a while. A fic about Stiles by chance gets discovered, does 3 films, wins an Oscar, dates a Hollywood actor, has sex with Derek, hurts Derek, Derek becomes a strong person and best friends with Scott, builds a house, and Stiles is an asshole and comes crawling back. 
> 
> That's pretty much what this is. 
> 
> Comments are LOVE.

 

 

_**And now shocking news in the entertainment world; America’s newest sweetheart, Stiles Stilinski, who rose to fame with his Oscar winning performance of a mentally ill man in ‘Dark trees’, has quit the business! News came from his agent yesterday afternoon that Stiles has decided to take a permanent hiatus from the acting world. Rising to stardom for his work in 2 critically acclaimed independent movies, one of which was written and directed by Wes Anderson, Stiles soon became America’s hottest new leading man. Taking a chance on him, Martin Scorsese then casted the young man in his film ‘Dark Trees’; a tragic and tortured story of a man consumed with his mental illness, for which Stiles had gone to win the best actor Oscar at the 2020 Academy Awards.** _

_**This news coming not too long after the shocking break up between him and Zachary Quinto.** _

_**We’ll miss you, Stiles! Come back to us!** _

The TV screen goes dark and Derek throws the remote hard, onto the coffee table in front of him. He grabs his jacket and the front door slams.  


~~~**~~~

  
He hears the giggling before he sees them. He grips the king size bag of Twizzlers in his hand and pulls the hood up on his sweatshirt farther over his face. It’s obviously doing nothing to keep him hidden; it failing him miserably along with his dark sunglasses.

He eyes the two young girls from the corner of his eyes; they are younger than normal. Even younger than he was the last time had lived near this city. He grabs a tube of sour cream and onion Pringles off the shelf and bee-lines for the register. He quickly pays; the girls now standing directly behind him in line. He nearly slams into them when he turns for the door, and one reaches out to run her hand along his arm. He yanks away and pushes the glass door open hard with his shoulder; the damn bell on the door jingling with his departure. 

He runs, slamming himself down into his car and peeling out of the parking lot; a swarm of girls waving and screaming in his rear view mirror outside the mini mart of the gas station. He starts to breathe again; the panic attack that was forming slowly dissipating. 

He shoves a Twizzler in his mouth and turns back onto the highway heading north toward Beacon Hills.  
  


~~~**~~~  


  
_  
**Stiles! I’m so glad you could make it here today to talk to us! I know you must be insanely busy with promoting the new movie. You wanna tell me a little about that?**   
_  


_It’s a pretty dark movie, no pun intended with the title. But seriously it was a script I couldn’t turn down. And to work with Martin, was an honor and a dream come true. I grew up on his movies and to have been handpicked to play the character of Derek, was just incredible._

_**With the movie not even released yet there is already critics buzzing with the word ‘Oscar’ in the air. And having seen a bit of the movie, I have to say the rawness you bring to Derek’s character is just amazing. What kind of mindset did you have to get into to play the role?**_

_You know, we’ve all had bouts with mental instability. Every American has had anxiety or depression. I myself have suffered from panic attacks my entire life, which honestly makes the attention now a bit hard to handle sometimes. And I’ve been in some pretty dark places in my life. So it wasn’t hard to relate to Derek’s character. I just looked within myself and did the best I could to bring to the screen what Martin was trying to portray._

**_Well, you did an extraordinary job! Seriously, I cannot wait to see the finished product._ **

_Thank you._

**_Now on a more personal note, there’s been a buzz in the rumor mill about a budding romance between you and your co-star, Zachary Quinto. Care to shed some light for your fans?_ **

_Zachary is quite an amazing guy. That’s all I’m going to say for now._

**_Tease! Well, Stiles thanks so much for being here with us!_ **

_Thanks for having me, Rebecca!_  


~~~***~~~

Derek feels his cell phone vibrating in the tight pocket of his jeans and he shucks off his gloves and balances it between his ear and shoulder as he cranks the lever on the bulldozer.

“What’s up, Scott?”

“Have you seen the news?”

Derek sighs and turns the engine off on the large machine and leans back in the padded seat. The sounds of drilling and cranes all around him cause him to press his ear uncomfortably against the receiver to hear the Alpha. “Yeah. I almost threw my remote through the TV.”

Scott sighs on the other end of the phone. “Good thing you didn’t. I refuse to replace another TV.” He pauses. “You know he’s coming here, right?”

Derek scrubs his hand over his face and rests his head back against his seat; eyes sliding shut. “Yeah, I figured. It is Stiles, after all.”

“Call me if you see him.” 

“Mmm. Right.” 

Derek shoves his cell back deep into his pocket and starts the bulldozer one again, the image of Stiles at 18 rushing through his brain.  


~~~***~~~

__

_“You’re gonna what?”_

_Derek hears Scott yell excitedly into his cell. He comes out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans as Lydia gives him a confused look from the couch and Scott is beaming from ear to ear. Derek can faintly hear the flaily, hyperactive voice piercing through the other end of the phone. Scott’s mouth falls open and his eyes widen._

_“Stiles is gonna be in a MOVIE!” He yells. Derek furrows his brow as Lydia jumps up off the couch._

_“What! Give me that phone.” She makes grabby hands at his cell and brings it to her ear. “Tell me EVERYTHING.”_

_Derek listens as they both excitedly get details about this small indie film Stiles had randomly auditioned for because it was filming at Berkeley. It’s a love story, of course, and of course his character is dying of some disease and tragically falls in love. Derek rolls his eyes. It’s been done. A million times. But in a way he felt proud. Stiles would be a good actor. If his attention could stay focused long enough._

_When they hang up with him, without even asking if Derek perhaps would want to talk to him, they jabber away at how exciting it is, and Stiles is gonna be in a MOVIE and...Derek stops listening after 20 minutes and settles in at the table, opening his laptop._

_Leave it to Stiles to do the most ridiculous thing after high school._  


~~*~~

  
He sips his coffee as he stares out the tinted windows of his Mercedes. Even though it’s highly unlikely anyone can see in through his windows, he’s still crouched down as he eyes the large blue house with the perfect landscaping outside.

He has people. People to find out information. Like the kind of information that leads to where his ex-best friend is living now. 

There is no commotion outside. It’s just after 5; people have real jobs he has to remember. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, humming the newest pop song that is floating through the air out of the radio and as soon as an older white Honda pulls up into the driveway, he quickly sits up, pulling his sunglasses down his nose. 

Yup. That’s Scott. Broader shoulders, hair longer, but its Scott. And this is where he lives. He gets the mail out of the box and leafs through it as a black shiny Land Rover pulls up in front of the house. He sees the red hair before anything and it makes him inhale sharply.

Lydia. 

She gets out, her pencil skirt and flowy blouse perfect against her still thin frame. She smiles when she sees Scott and leans in to kiss him soundly before looking down at the mail in his hand. 

Lydia just kissed Scott. 

And then he sees it. The diamond shining brightly on her left hand. 

Lydia and Scott.

Engaged. 

Is this real?

And if the picture couldn’t get any more confusing for him, he sees a large gray pickup truck rumble down the street and pull right into the spot in the driveway next to Scott’s car. 

The sign on the truck?

Hale~Argent construction.

What. Is. This. Even.

And then like a Greek God shining down from the heavens, Derek hops down out of the monster he was driving, dark sunglasses around his eyes, and full on beard dusty just like his t-shirt and jeans. And...What? Are those tattoos in a perfect sleeve on Derek’s arm?

The back of his shirt sports the same logo as his truck and he gives Lydia and Scott a small wave and waits for them at the bottom of the porch stairs; all of them going into the house together. 

Derek, Scott and Lydia live together. 

Scott and Lydia are engaged. 

Derek and Chris Argent own a fucking construction company together. 

And he is an Oscar winning actor who ran away from Hollywood to come home. 

But then he remembers, this really isn’t his home anymore.  


~~~*~~~

  
__  
__  
“It was actually good.” Scott mumbles as he, Lydia, Isaac, and Derek filter out of the theater. “I mean, the story’s been told a million times. Guy likes girl. Girl likes guy. Guy gets girl. Guy gets disease. Guy dies. But...there was something different about this one, and not just because Stiles was in it.”

_Derek remains silent because he doesn’t want to admit the obvious._

_“Um, it’s because Stiles was GOOD. He was absolutely amazing in that movie.” Lydia says matter-of-factly._

_Derek sighs. It’s so fucking true._

_“We need to call him. I told him we were going to see it tonight and I’d call him as soon as it got out.”_

_Isaac bumps Derek’s shoulder as they stand on the sidewalk, waiting as Scott dials Stiles number, putting it on speaker so they all could hear._

_“What did you think?”_

_Derek shrugs. “It was just a movie.”_

_Isaac smiles then snorts. “You are so full of fucking shit.”_

_Derek scowls and Scott frowns when Stiles voicemail picks up. “Guess he’s busy. I’ll call him later.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket and they continue down the sidewalk._

_Little did they know it was just the beginning of Stiles being “busy.”_  


~~~*~~~

  
Of course the guy at the front desk recognized him. He’s the biggest thing to come out of Beacon Hills. He knows it won’t be long before it’s all over Twitter and Facebook that he is back in his home town. Soon Scott and everyone else will know he’s back too; if they even follow that crap.

He flops down on the uncomfortable motel bed; Beacon Hills isn’t known for its luxurious hotels. He has no idea what he’s doing. He has no right to be back here. He’s too scared to even go to his own house to see his father. He doesn't dare step foot into the Sheriff’s station. He can't even go see his best friend.

Ex best friend. 

He’s ruined everything he had here. 

And he’s not even sure when or how it happened.  


~~~*~~~

  
__  
_Stiles sips his coffee cautiously as steps outside of the small cafe. It’s his favorite stop on the way to class and he’s definitely going to need it since missing all that work from filming. He’s going to be a year behind now on graduating, but the extra money in his bank account is well worth it. He can now afford to give his Dad and friends a good Christmas._

_He waits for the white walking man to appear on the street sign when he notices the group of girls just a few feet from him, giggling, pointing and snapping pictures. He raises an eyebrow at them in confusion._

_“Y-you’re Stiles Stinlinski, aren't you?!” The red haired girl asks, voice shaking._

_“Uh, yeah. Hi.” Stiles walks toward them and the brown haired girl literally flails._

_“Oh my god! Hi, um, I’m Emily and this is Ashley, Julie and Miranda.” Emily is obviously in charge of this group and Stiles politely shakes each one of their hands as he balances his hot coffee cup in the other._

_“Nice to meet you.” Stiles is still confused. And surprised. It was just a small indie movie…_

_“Keep Going is seriously our favorite movie of all time. It’s so beautiful and tragic and oh god the way Jordan and Matt just are so perfect for each other. We just love you so much!” Julie gushes, her hands shaking as she wrings them together._

_“Wow, um thanks so much. I didn’t realize…”_

_“Can we get a picture with you? Please!?” Miranda finally chimes in._

_“Yeah, of course…” Stiles gets in the middle of the group of giggling girls and they all take turns snapping pictures of them with their I-phones._

_He eventually leaves them squealing and dancing around comparing their selfies with him. Stiles shakes his head laughing. At least somebody saw the movie other than his friends at home._  


~~~*~~~

  
“Stiles is all over twitter.” Lydia tells Scott and Derek as they hoist up another 4x4.

“What the hell is twitter?” Derek mumbles, grabbing the nail gun. 

“I swear to God Derek, we need to get you socialized.” Lydia leans against her range rover and scrolls through her phone. “Looks like he’s got a bunch of screaming little girl fans. How adorable.”

Derek snorts. “Stiles? Fans? Right.”

“Hey, I heard Keep Going did really well. It’s up for a Sundance award.” Scott tells him matter of factly as he holds the beam of wood in place.

“A what?” Derek asks, brow furrowed.

“Dude, you're hopeless.”  


~~~**~~~

  
__  
_“You’re kidding, right? I mean, this is a joke.”_

_“I assure you, Stiles this is no joke.” The voice on the other end of Stiles’ cell phone tells him._

_“This is THE Wes Anderson. Royal Tenenbaums, Wes Anderson?”_

_The voice laughs. “Yes.”_

_“Wow. Um, so hey. What’s up?” Stiles closes his eyes in embarrassment._

_“What’s up is that I saw, Keep Going, and even though the movie itself wasn't Oscar worthy, I feel your acting in it, was. And I’d love for you to come and audition for a new movie I’m working on. What do you say? Can you make it to Hollywood this weekend? I know you’re taking classes at Stanford, and I respect that honestly, but I’d really love to see if you can bring my one character of Ethan to life for me.” Wes’s voice is assuring and respectful. It makes Stiles feel good about himself._

_“Yeah, definitely. Tell me where and what time. I’ll be there, Mr. Anderson.”_

_“Wes. Call me Wes, Stiles. I feel like we are going to be getting to know each other quite well.”_  


~~~**~~~

  
_“Did you just say WES ANDERSON?” Scott’s voice echoes through the vacant foyer and into the just about finished living room. Derek sighs and follows the screeching._

_“STILES IS GOING TO BE IN A WES ANDERSON MOVIE!” Scott shouts at Derek when he is within eyesight. “Can you fucking BELIEVE IT!?”_

_Now Derek knows who Wes Anderson is. Of course he does. Stiles and Scott have made him watch Rushmore about 25 times. And he knows they worship the ground that the director walks on. But another movie? Really? Stiles?_

_Derek had to sit through his last movie with the dying and crying and girly love shit. But the bottom line was, Stiles WAS good._

_“What about school?” Derek asks, arms folded. Scott rolls his eyes at him and shoos him away, babbling away into his cell phone to his best friend. Derek sighs heavily and goes back to the living room floor he was just sanding._  


~~~**~~~

  
_“Dad, please just let me do this for you.” Stiles balances his cell phone on his shoulder as he decides between the silver and the purple tie in front of his mirror._

_“Stiles, just because you have some money in your pocket now, it doesn't mean you need to spend it all.” The Sheriff warns._

_“Dad, it’s not just some money. It’s a lot of money.” Stiles laughs._

_“Then why don't you focus on getting yourself a place to live first before you go off and pay off my house?”_

_“I thought it was our house?” Stiles asks, finally deciding on the purple tie and putting his dad on speaker phone._

_“It is. Of course it is, but you worked hard for this money, you should put it away for when you go back to college and this way you won’t have any student loans like the rest of America.” His father sounds exhausted. He works too much. All the more reason for Stiles to do this._

_“Dad, I’m paying off the mortgage and there is nothing you can say about it. Just please let me do this for you. You deserve it and I can finally do something. Please?”_

_He hears his father sigh heavily. “Fine. But promise me the next thing you’re going to do is get yourself a better place to live? That apartment is not what I want for my son.”_

_“I promise Dad. Listen I gotta go. The limo is waiting. I love you. I’ll call again soon.”_

_“Love you too, Son.”_  


~~~**~~~

  
Derek Hale has a fucking Facebook. And it’s filled with tons of pictures of him and Scott, Lydia, Isaac, Chris Argent, even Kira.

There is an album called “Scott and Lydia’s engagement party” strewn with pictures in only what Stiles can presume is Derek’s backyard. 

And his father was there. 

And Stiles had no idea about any of this. About Scott and Lydia. About Derek owning a house. About his dad being all chummy with him. About this construction company Derek formed with what used to be his arch nemesis, Chris Argent.

None of this makes any sense. It’s like an alternate universe Stiles is looking into where everyone looks the same but they aren't. Derek is smiling in these pictures. And drinking a beer. 

It’s like pod people took him over.

And Stiles is starting to realize he doesn't fit into that group anymore. He doesn't fit anywhere.  


~~~**~~~

  
__  
“Stiles...this is...wow.” Scott looks around in just the foyer of the house they were all just let into. Marble everywhere with Medieval antiques covering the walls and lining the floor.

_And yeah, this was just the foyer._

_“Stiles, you like bought this?”_

_“Yup. Awesome, huh?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows and Derek frowns. Stiles notices. “Oh come on, Sour wolf. Smile just once. What are you jealous?” Stiles nudges his elbow into Derek’s ribs and Derek lets out a low growl._

_“Nauseated is more like it.” He mumbles, pulling away from Stiles. He can't put his finger on it. He can't quite put into words the feelings he has right now. It isn't jealousy. He could give a shit less about big houses and fancy cars. He lives in a broken down loft for Christ’s sake._

_It’s Stiles. Or the shell of what Stiles used to be._

_“Come on, throw your bags down. I have enough space for you all to have your own rooms.” Stiles grabs Derek’s duffle bag and leads the way into the living room that could fit probably all of Beacon Hills. Derek shakes his head as Scott, Lydia and Isaac all ‘Ohhh’ and ‘Ahhh’ in amazement._

_Derek keeps his distance, making his own way through the house, stopping to stare at only the important things. Like the pictures that scatter in between the wasted money. Stiles as a kid with his Dad. Scott and Stiles in their Lacrosse gear after the championship. Stiles mother and father on their wedding day._

_And the one Derek stands in front of the longest; the picture on Stiles state of the art, stainless steel fridge that could hold enough food to last him a year; a candid of himself, Stiles, Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Isaac sitting around in Derek’s loft. Cora took the picture, Derek remembers, one of the only times she had come to visit._

_She had given it to Derek._

_And Stiles must have stolen it._

_“Oh yeah, hey sorry. I really love that photo.” As if Stiles could feel him in the kitchen, he appears behind Derek._

_“I would have just given it to you.” Derek tells him._

_Stiles snorts. “Right, just like that.”_

_Derek turns to eye him. “Yes, Stiles. Just like that.”_

_The fridge is cold against Derek’s back through his thin t-shirt as he is thrown into it by Stiles’ body and mouth. The kiss is forceful; squeezing years into seconds of lips and tongue. The house is so big it would probably take a while for the rest of them to find Derek and Stiles molesting each other against various appliances in the kitchen._

_When Derek finally pulls back, he narrow his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”_

_“I have no fucking idea.” Stiles admits, leaning in to capture Derek’s lips again. Derek puts his palms out, laying them flat against Stiles’ chest, keeping him at a safe but annoying distance._

_“Stop.”_

_“Why?” Stiles challenges._

_“Because I said so.”_

_“Well guess what, tough guy, we aren’t in Beacon Hills anymore and you don't get to bark orders at me like some teenager anymore. Things have changed.”_

_“Don’t I fucking know it!” Derek yells, pushing Stiles all the way back now; his ass hitting the counter. “Fancy house, fancy car, fancy acting career. You’re right, this isn't Beacon Hills. Which means things have changed and you’re not going to make up for lost time or sexual frustration or whatever this is. I don't work that way. And before all this fucking shit happened, neither did you.”_

_Stiles eyes are as wide as dinner plates as he listens to the words spill from Derek’s mouth. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”_

_“Then why didn’t you, Stiles? Huh? Why didn’t you back then?” Derek demands, his arms folded across his chest._

_“I am now.”_

_“It’s too late. Everything is too different now.”_

_“Why? Because I’m here and you’re there?” Stiles takes a step toward him but Derek shakes his head and puts his hand out._

_“No. And yes. I can’t kiss you or whatever else might or would happen this weekend and then go back to Beacon Hills. Not now. Not with you.” Derek moves past him, his fingers delicately brushing Stiles forearm. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”_

_“Derek…” Stiles begins but realizes that by Derek’s demeanor that nothing he is going to say is going to change his mind._

_Stiles realizes now maybe it’s time to let Derek go._  


~~~**~~~  


  
“Says here on Twitter that Stiles is at the Roadside motel.” Lydia flops down on the couch next to Scott who is currently channel surfing. Derek sighs from the kitchen as he browns ground turkey in a pan for tacos.

“I told you.” Scott yells to him. 

“I know.” Derek wipes his hands on his jeans and moving from the kitchen to the living room. “I saw a black Mercedes parked outside the house when we drove up.”

“What?” Scott sits up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because, you honestly think he would have gotten out of the car? He’s circling. He’ll make his move when he’s ready.” He gives Scott a nod but Scott frowns at him. Lydia touches her fiancées arm and he immediately relaxes. He falls back against the couch and continues with his impatient channel changing as he literally huffs at Derek’s decision. 

As Derek goes back to making their dinner, he finds himself practically shaking. The idea of being in front of Stiles again brings up emotions, too many emotions, he had long thought were buried. He had come to terms with everything that happened. He was happy for Stiles, but sickened at the same time. 

He doesn't know what Stiles wants. He doesn't understand what Stiles expects from this sudden change in career and plans. What was left for him here but memories and broken promises? On both ends. He feels his claws digging into the countertop and he closes his eyes, trying to calm the wolf inside him. 

The wolf who is still hurting. The wolf who still aches for Stiles. His wolf who regrets all the things he didn't do or say. 

The wolf who misses who Stiles was. Who they used to be to each other.  


~~~***~~~

  
****  
_Stiles, you rose to stardom ratherly quickly. Tell me a little about where you came from._  


_My home town is small but awesome. I have a close knit group of friends who I still talk to all the time. They were actually just here in LA for a weekend. My Dad is the Sheriff where I’m from and I sometimes really miss it. But I visit whenever I can._

**_That’s great, Stiles. But we are all dying to know. Anyone special back home?_ **

_Right to the real personal questions, huh, Rachel? But nah, just some really good friends. No one has captured my heart yet._

 

The remote didn't do a good enough job breaking Stiles’ face on the screen so Derek decides pushing his TV straight down into the floor will be better at getting rid of the voice and face he still dreams of every night.  


~~~**~~~

  
“Hey, Dad.”

John Stilinski eyes widen and before Stiles can say anything else he is wrapped up in his father’s arms. He feels safe for the first time in years. 

“Stiles…” His father whispers, hugging him tighter against his chest. It brings back a flood of memories for him; hugs after near death experiences at the hands of werewolves, darachs, nogistune’s; everything Stiles ran away from. 

Everything Stiles ran right back to. 

When the sheriff finally pulls back he searches his sons face for answers he doesn't have the strength to ask. 

“Are you okay?” He ushers him inside. “How long are you visiting for?”

Stiles looks around his childhood home, tears and apologies stuck in his throat. “How’s forever sound?”  


~~~**~~~

  
__  
Zach’s long fingers caress Stiles thigh softly as their breathing begins to return to normal. He brushes his hair off his sweaty forehead and flops his head back against his pillow. When he feels Zach’s lips ghost over his skin, he squeezes his eyes shut tightly and cringes, praying Zach doesn't see his expression.

_Zach’s nice. And respectful. And talented. And extremely good looking. And to be honest the feel of scruff against his skin is exactly what he had missing his whole life. But he knows emotionally, there’s nothing there. Physically sure. The deep voice. The 7-o'clock shadow. The eye brows._

_Everything Stiles craves._

_Just from someone else._

_“Have you ever been in love?”_

_Zach’s whisper cracks the silence and Stiles squeezes his eyes even tighter at the question. Maybe this is why he picked Zach. So the media would just have a field day and he’d never actually have to talk about the pit in his stomach._

_Beacon Hills._

_Derek._

_His father._

_Scott._

_Lydia._

_Allison’s death._

_They would focus all their energy on his celebrity relationship with Zach and everything else about his life; where he came from, who he was before Hollywood; would fade into the distance._

_Stiles reaches down, his fingers tangling into Zach’s soft curls forming but keeps his eyes closed._

_“Yes.”_

_“What was his name?” Zach is still whispering, as if the question in itself is too hard for him to ask. Or maybe he knows it may be too hard for Stiles to answer._

_Stiles takes a deep breath, opening his eyes finally and memorizing the lights flickering across Zach’s bedroom ceiling._

_“Derek. His name was Derek.”_  


~~~***~~~

  
__  
“We need a name for your character.”

_Martin sits across from him; the table loaded with all the likes of Hollywood. Agents, actors, lawyers, sound people, costume designers, hair and makeup. Everyone who was anyone who would be working on this movie._

_Stiles looks down at his script, rereading the description of the part he landed by the seat of his pants._

_Dark hair. Haunted by his past. Scared of his demons. Brilliant. Shy. Sad. Angry. Gives his heart away too easily. Icy. Protects the ones he loves till the end._

_Stiles swallows, looks up at the prying eyes around him and leans back in his comfortable leather chair at the head of the table._

_“Derek. Let’s name him, Derek.”_  


~~***~~~

  
“Hale! Where is your head today!?”

Chris’s voice breaks Derek out of his daydream and he looks up from the bulldozers controls and into the angry eyes of his partner. 

“We have a deadline, you know. You wanna lose the bonus?” Chris grabs a hold of the side of the machine and hoists himself up so he is eye level with Derek. 

Derek swallows. “No, sorry. I...sorry.” He cranks the lever but stops when he feels Chris’s hand on his arm. He eyes him. 

“You ok?” Chris pauses, sighing. “You wouldn't happen to be out of it due to a certain news report I saw on an Oscar winning Beacon Hills alum coming back home, would it?”

Derek narrows his eyes, growling low in his chest. Chris doesn't flinch. He should know better. Chris hasn't been afraid of werewolves in quite some time. And he’s especially not afraid of Derek. 

He sighs heavily and looks out into the construction site. “He was at my house. He didn't get out of the car though.”

Chris smiles and pats Derek’s arm affectionately. “You honestly thought he would?”

“No.” Derek lies. 

“Derek, if this is bothering you so much, just go talk to him yourself.”

Derek’s head whips violently toward his friend. “Are you fucking out of your mind?”

Chris laughs and shakes his head. “Well, if you're not going to do anything about it, stop moping and get back to work. We promised Ron this would be done by Friday.” He gives Derek one more knowing look before hopping down off of the bulldozer. Derek watches as he picks up the jackhammer he had been using before yelling at him. 

He can feel the hot metal around his hand and it itches to just pull it and get back to work. Kinda of like how it itches to touch Stiles one more time.  


~~***~~

  
Stiles can feel his father’s eyes on him as he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Stiles shakes his head, swallowing. “Thanks for understanding why I didn't want to go out to eat.”

John Stilinski nods, pulling out the chair across from his son. “Stiles…”

“Don’t, okay? I already know the millions of things you could say because I’ve thought and felt every single one. I have no right to be back here-”

“Stop right there.” The sheriff interrupts. “You have every right to be here. This is your home. And it always will be. No matter what.” He leans on his forearms onto the table. “Have you seen anyone yet?”

Stiles sighs, pushing the rest of his uneaten sandwich away. “Why didn’t you tell me about Scott and Lydia?”

John frowns. “Not to state the obvious, Stiles, but it’s not like you call much. So when you do, I wanna know about you. And honestly I didn't think Scott would be the kind of thing you wanted to hear.”

“I know.” Stiles gives his dad a sad look. “Just weird, you know. Everything is different. Everyone is different.”

“So are you, Stiles.”

“Not really.” He mumbles.  


~~~**~~~

  
__

_“I can't believe you’re here.” Stiles mumbles into the leather on Derek’s shoulder._

_“Me either.” He hears him whisper._

_Stiles pulls back and looks into Derek’s eyes, searching for any sign of emotion he can decipher. Nothing._

_“I’m still not quite sure why you called me.”_

_Stiles swallows. “I just needed some sense of normalcy. It’s kinda lonely in this big house all by myself and it’s hard to come back to Beacon Hills with my filming schedule.”_

_“Mmmm.” Derek drops his bag and walks slowly through the foyer, looking up at the high sloped ceiling. “Still doesn't answer my question of why you called me.”_

_“Cause I knew you’re the only one who would come.”_

_Derek turns, eyebrows furrowed. “Whose fault is that?”_

_“Mine. I know it’s mine.” Stiles admits._

_“Then do something about it.” Derek says turning back and heading more into the house. Stiles follows, watching Derek’s ass in tight dark jeans. Maybe there were other reasons he called Derek too._

_“I have filming in the morning, but I figure you could site see while I’m working or you could come with me to set.” Stiles watches as Derek wanders through the house, eying every single thing occupying space. Tracing his finger over every surface, as if taking in every ounce of what Stiles is here in this big house._

_“I’ll be fine on my own.” Derek stops in front of the 90 inch TV covering pretty much one entire wall of the den. “Little excessive, no?”_

_“I don’t even watch it.”_

_“Then why have it?”_

_“Why not?”_

_Derek shakes his head and heads toward the sliding glass doors that leads into the backyard. It overlooks the Hollywood hills; the main reason Stiles bought the place. Reminded him of home during full moons._

_“I miss you.” Stiles blurts out as Derek’s hand grabs the handle of the door. He slides it open, a gust of warm California summer air brushing through his dark locks._

_“Prove it.”_  


~~~***~~~

  
Stiles’ head is covered with his childhood comforter which oddly still smells like his old deodorant and hair gel. He’s been trying to “rest”; his father's orders. But he’s been hiding under his blankets for the past hour wondering if it’s possible to hide in this house forever. He could sell his house in LA and slowly meander his way back into Beacon Hills society. He knows he will always be “Stiles Stilinski-Hollywood star”, but at least he’d be home. He could maybe even get into law enforcement. He was always good at detective work and research.

But who was he really kidding? He doesn't belong here anymore. He has no friends. He’s lost Scott and Lydia and after what happened with Derek….

But what was really for him in LA? Yeah, sure. He could be a movie star, act and make movies and make lots of money. Date out of the closet and some in closet guys, but the whole reason he left that all behind was because at the end of the day it was all just...empty. He’s empty. His life isn’t being threatened by supernatural beings, he isn't running from bad guys and bad things at every turn. His life is loud, yes, but not in the way he is used to. 

He misses his friends. He misses his Dad. He misses Beacon Hills.

He misses Derek. 

There’s a soft knock on his opened bedroom door and he peeks one eye out from under the blankets. His Dad has his head cocked to one side as he gives him a small smile.

“There’s someone here to see you, Stiles.”

He sits up, his t-shirt bunched around his midsection. His father steps aside and lets his guest slide past him and into the doorway. Stiles stops breathing. 

“What? Don't look so surprised. Did you think I would read all over Twitter and see on TMZ you were here and I was just going to let that GO? Come on, Stiles I think you know me better than that.” She swings her red hair over his shoulder in true Lydia fashion.  


~~***~~~

  
__  
Derek stuffs Thai noodles in his mouth and leafs through the magazine on the coffee table. Stiles hasn't touched his food.

_Derek chews quietly, unnerving Stiles._

_“Are we gonna have sex or what?”_

_Derek looks up, mid chew. He swallows and puts his take out container down carefully. He folds his hands out in front of him, balancing his elbows on his jeaned knees. His expression is unreadable._

_Stiles breathes heavily. Derek shakes his head smirking._

_“What?” Stiles demands._

_“You are seriously ridiculous.” Derek takes his food container to the kitchen, his fork clanking in the sink._

_Stiles follows, arms folded. “I’m ridiculous?”_

_“Stiles, if you wanted to get laid why didn’t you call one of your vegan LA hipster friends instead of making me come all the way here?”_

_“Because!” Stiles spats out. “First of all I don't have any vegan hipster friends. Secondly, I didn't make you do anything. And third, you’re the one I want to fuck. I’ve always wanted to fuck you. I’m sorry it took me so long, but maybe I just needed a little more confidence to finally make my move, sue me. And I’m sorry if it took all this-” Stiles motions around his mansion- “to give me the confidence but hey, better late than never, right?”_

_Derek takes a second, eyeing Stiles and it’s literally driving Stiles to insanity. Then with the delicate and perfect way that Derek has always been able to do, he slides his way around the kitchen counter and towards Stiles. He stands eye to eye with him, millimeters from his face. “And what makes you think I want to fuck you?”_

_Stiles swallows. “You wouldn't be here if some part of you didn't want to. It’s not like we were real friends back in Beacon Hills. There’s no real reason for you to be here other than to make sure I’m ok and to see if the sexual tension is still here.”_

_Derek cocks an eyebrow. “Sexual tension?”_

_“Yes?” Stiles squeaks out. He doesn't understand, after all this time, Derek still intimidates him._

_“Where’s the confidence now?” Derek whispers._

_“I’m trying. Maybe part of the old me is still in here somewhere.”_

_Derek leans in, his breath ghosting over Stiles lips. “That’s the reason I came here, Stiles. To see how much of you is still you.”_

_“I’m still me. I am.”_

_“Prove it.” Derek demands for the second time today._

_Stiles smashes his lips to Derek’s, holding his breath as he does. Derek doesn't kiss back at first, but when Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, he feels hands snake around his small hips._

_And that’s when things get crazy. Stiles is being pushed back against the nearby wall, a painting falling and smashing glass all over the floor. It makes him squeak, afraid that glass will hit them, and as if Derek can read his mind, he is being lifted up and he wraps his legs around Derek’s hips._

_The kiss intensifies, all tongue and spit and moans and whimpers. Denimed cocks rub together causing friction that is causing more electricity through their bodies._

_“Derek....” Stiles whispers as Derek mouths at his exposed neck. “Please.”_

_Derek pulls back, still holding him under his ass. He narrows his eyes. “I can't go back.”_

_“What? I...to Beacon Hills?” Stiles begins to panic. Does Derek want to move in? Is he on the run from hunters? Is there a problem with the pack?_

_“No. I mean...I can't go back to the way it was. If we do this...it’ll change things. I won’t be able to just ignore…” Derek closes his eyes, as if the words are too hard to get out. Stiles kisses his lips softly; short small kisses on his full swollen lips._

_“You don't get to ignore me anymore, sour wolf. You’re in this now.”_

_Derek opens his eyes; amber flashing as a low pornographic growl escapes his throat. He’s panting and Stiles knows his wolf is just on the surface, begging to get out._

_“Now, fuck me.”_  


~~***~~

  
Lydia sits on the edge of the bed with grace but force. She crosses her legs, her navy blue heels shining in the afternoon light coming through Stiles window as she folds his hands over her knee. She raises her eyebrow at him and waits for him to talk.

But he can't. He’s mute.

“So, you have nothing to say? No explanation? No juicy gossip? No apologies?”

“You and Scott are engaged!?” Stiles finally spits out, unable to hold in the question and surprise any longer. Lydia sighs. 

“That’s what you ask...I…” She rolls her eyes and turns toward him. “Yes, a lot has changed, Stiles. A lot. You’d know if you talked to any of us. After you and Derek…”

“Wait, you know about that?”

“Of course I know about it. It took a while for Derek to finally TELL us why we found the TV smashed to pieces the day E-news broke the story about you and Zachary Quinto, but yes he did tell us. And quite frankly, as juicy and inevitable as it was that you and Derek FINALLY did the deed, it does not warrant you to stop talking to us. We really needed you-all of us-and you just disappeared. And you wanna know the real kicker in all this? We supported you. We were all so proud of you and your success. No one was jealous. No one resented you. We just wanted to be there for you. And you took that and spit on it. You and Derek have sex and you decide to date someone else-why I honestly don’t care-and then poof. No more phone calls. No emails. Nothing. The only way we can find out about your life is through tabloid magazines and twitter and Instagram. Do you know none of us could even stomach watching the Oscars, knowing you were nominated? We found out on the morning news the next day that you had won.”

Stiles looks down, picking at his chewed on nails. It had been a while since he had gotten a manicure. 

“So? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Stiles finally looks up, tears in his eyes. “How did he propose?”

Lydia sighs heavily and smacks Stiles upside the head.  


~~~**~~~

  
__  
The breeze coming in off the Pacific Ocean causes goose bumps to rise on Stiles skin and he shivers slightly. Derek pulls him a bit closer, moaning softly as he shifts in and out of lazy  
sleep. Stiles memorizes his face; different than how he used to. He knows every line of Derek’s face when he is angry, sad, determined, etc. But this look; the look of pure bliss and calmness; is something Stiles has never really seen.

_And he is the cause._

_His heart swells; he finally has Derek right where he’s always imagined him. Next to him, happy and tired from the insanely amazing sex they just had._

_Derek filled him up in every part of him, his body and mind seizing and overflowing with ecstasy. Stiles slept for a little while; his body unable to deny himself the nap he needed after Derek ruined him. Even though its warm in his bed, especially with Derek curled around him; Stiles can't stop shaking._

_He’s scared. He’s scared about what all this means. About what’s to come? About his future. What’s next for his career? He knows about the movie he’s landed; with Martin Scorsese to boot; but he hasn't told anyone yet. It’s like if he says it out loud, it will be real._

_And Stiles isn't sure what’s real and what’s not out here in LA._

_“Derek?”_

_“Hmmm?” Derek’s voice is sleepy and adorable._

_“I have to tell you something.”_

_Derek’s eyes flutter open and he cranes his neck to look down at Stiles. “Yeah?”_

_“I got another movie.”_

_Derek nods, closes his eyes and shifts his head back up the pillow. “Okay.”_

_“No, it’s a big deal. This could make or break me.”_

_“It’s Hollywood, Stiles. Breathing here makes or breaks you.”_

_“True. But it’s a Martin Scorsese film. It’s about a mentally ill man.”_

_Derek’s eyes pop open and he stares up at the vaulted ceiling of Stiles’ bedroom. “Well, then you’ll be perfect. No one knows darkness like you.”_

_Stiles frowns. “That’s what I’m afraid of. What if I get lost in it? Remember what happened to Heath Ledger when he played the Joker? He BECAME the Joker.”_

_Derek literally laughs out loud and rubs his hand over his face. “Stiles, stop.”_

_“I’m not sure I should do it.”_

_Derek sighs and strains his neck again to look at him. “Why?”_

_“Because. What if it flops? What if I’m awful?”_

_“You know what I think?” Derek asks._

_Stiles just looks at him._

_“I think you’re more afraid of it doing well, instead of flopping.”_

_Stiles’ eyes widen. “Why the fuck would I be afraid of that?”_

_“Because.” Derek says closing his eyes again, settling into Stiles’ warm soft bed. “Then you’d feel like you belong here.”_  


~~~**~~~

  
“So, are you ever gonna talk to Scott again or are you two just gonna avoid each other for the rest of your lives?” Lydia asks, slinging her designer purse over her shoulder.

Stiles shrugs and she gives him the LOOK again.

“Lydia, I don't know. I mean you and I finally just talked. How am I supposed to know if I can even look at Scott? How do you know he even wants to talk to me?” Stiles sits on the edge of his bed, defeated.

Lydia kneels down in front of him, giving him that smile she used to give him back in High School when things just became too much and thought he was being silly. “Stiles, you can fix this. You just need to suck it up and talk to everyone.” She pauses. “Including Derek.”

“No. No way.” Stiles quickly rebuts. He’s getting the LOOK again. “Are you crazy? After the way I hurt him?”

“He still cares about you. We have 3 broken TV’s to prove it.”

Stiles almost smiles at this. “What do I even say?”

“Apologies can go a long way when you actually mean them.”  


~~~**~~~

  
__  
“You make it back ok?”

_Derek grunts on the other end of the line._

_“I miss you already.”_

_Stiles can hear him breathing but he remains silent._

_“Nothing to say?”_

_“If I say it, it’ll make it harder.”_

_“It’s already hard, Derek.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“I don’t want to leave it like this.”_

_“Then don’t.”_

_“How can I not?” Stiles voice quivers slightly. He refuses to cry._

_Derek doesn't answer._

_“Derek…”_

_“I love you, you know.”_

_Stiles closes his eyes and swallows down the tears. “I know.”_  


~~~**~~~

  
****  
_E! News can now confirm the rumors about hot new leading man Stiles Stilinski and his co-star Zachary Quinto; they are indeed a couple! The two have been dodging the question that’s been asked of them since filming began for the Oscar contender for Film of the Year, “Dark Trees’; are they in fact dating? Stiles and Zachary could not deny the rumors anymore when they were seen exiting a swanky romantic restaurant in LA, holding hands and kissing before getting into Zachary’s BMW SUV. They happily waved at the paparazzi and Stiles leaned over to give his man a kiss on the cheek for the cameras as seen here in these shots. They do make an adorable couple, don’t they?_  


_  
“This is the 3rd TV you’ve broken.” Lydia stands with her hands on her hips as she glares down at the face down television on the floor._

_Derek growls and continues to reread the same sentence for the 13th time in his hardcover book._

_“You don’t scare me, Derek Hale. And I don't understand why you insist on watched E! when you know it’s going to make you angry.” Lydia sits down gently on the couch next to the werewolf. “What was it now?”_

_Derek swallows, not looking up from his book. “He’s dating that guy.”_

_“Oh stop. That rumors been going around for months. There’s-”_

_“It’s confirmed. There’s pictures of them kissing outside a restaurant. He was flaunting it in my face.”_

_“Derek...no he wasn't.” Lydia assures him._

_Derek whips his eyes up to her face, eyes glowing amber. “If there is one thing I know about Stiles, it’s his need to rub shit in my face. In all our faces. It’s over, Lydia. That isn't Stiles anymore. Not the Stiles we know. It’s time we let him go. I know I am.” He slams his book down on the coffee table making Lydia jump a little in her own skin. His bedroom door slams and Lydia closes her eyes._

_“Sure you are.”_  


~~~**~~~

  
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to come here.”

Stiles hears his voice before the jingle on the door stops chiming into the Veterinary hospital. He keep his head low as he walks toward the counter. 

“You look like shit, Stiles.” His ex-best friend’s voice drills a hole the size of California through his heart. Stiles finally looks up. 

“I feel like shit.”

“You should.” Scott reminds him, nodding, arms folded. 

“I know.”

The silence is deafening. Stiles had this entire speech planned. He knew exactly what he wants to say, what he needs to say, but the words just won't come out. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage to whisper. 

“I know.” 

Stiles looks up. His oldest friend and Alpha is smirking at him. “You do?”

“Stiles, you’re an idiot but you're not an asshole. Well I mean you kinda are.” Scott smiles at him. “You got caught up in Hollywood. It happens. You wouldn't be here, willing to give it all up if you weren’t sorry. If you weren't ready to start over. It’s gonna take some time, but I’m not going to just give up on 22 years of friendship just like that. I thought you knew me better than that.” 

“How can I? Just start over? How can we? It’s been so long. So much has changed. You and Lydia…” Stiles shakes his head, looking down again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn't know how to. Sometimes things just happen. And we love each other. A lot. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Stiles.” Scott comes around from behind the counter, finally. 

“Come on, Scotty. I’m not mad about you and Lydia. I’m happy for you two. I’m just sad I wasn't around for it.” Stiles looks up giving him a small smile. 

Scott nods. “And Derek?”

Stiles turns pale white at his name. “I...cant.”

“Trust me, it’s not gonna be easy. Nothing with Derek ever is. But you have to. Whether you decide to stay in Beacon Hills or not. You gotta have some kind of closure. For both your sakes. You both deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve shit.” Stiles practically yells. “You have no idea how much I hurt him.”

“Oh yes I do. I live with him, remember? I’ve been dealing with this for years.” Scott rests a hand on Stiles shoulder. “You have to just do it. Rip the band aid off.”

“And what if he rips my throat out? With his teeth?” Stiles asks, the memory making him want to smile and sob all at the same time.

Scott shrugs. “He might. It is Derek after all.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Stiles mumbles.

“You need him. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping. And I’m not gonna pry. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But I know the one person who can help is Derek. So just do it. Today is his early day. He’s home by now. And alone. It’s the perfect time.” Scott informs him, nodding toward the door. “It’s now or never.”  


~~***~~

****  
_“Wow. I...I honestly cannot believe this. It’s so unreal. Thank you. Wow, thank you so much. I...I want to thank the Academy. I can’t believe those words are actually coming out of my mouth. Holy crap. Oh, sorry. Oops. Um, so yes. I want to thank Martin, whom without his brilliant mind and writing I wouldn't be standing up here. I want to thank my cast members, especially Zachary. You have been an inspiration to me; I don't think my character of Derek would have been nearly as amazing without your belief in me and your direction. You are my muse. Um, to my Dad back home, thank you for letting me take my own path in life and always supporting me. I love and miss you. And to everyone back in my hometown...I...here’s to the full moon. Thank you everyone!”_  


_  
“Why are you torturing yourself by watching that?” Scott asks, sliding up next to Derek at the kitchen counter. He closes his laptop with a thud._

_“Did you see it?”_

_“Of course. Lydia made me watch it on her phone this morning.” Scott answers, rolling his eyes._

_“The full moon? Is he crazy? What is he trying to do?” Derek growls._

_“What is Stiles always trying to do? He’s trying to push buttons. Prove to us he hasn't forgotten us but in the most dangerous way. As usual. Let it go, Der. There’s nothing we can do but move on. You yourself said it, remember?”_

_Derek doesn't answer, his hands in balled up fists on top of his laptop._

_“He hasn't called in almost a year, Derek.”_

_“I’m aware.”_

_“Then what are we holding onto? He keeps in touch with his dad, that’s it. And he barely does that. I mean who doesn't invite their own father to the Oscars?”_

_Derek stands, making his way to the couch to recover his book he had been reading before temptation lured him in. Scott sighs._

_“I miss him too.”_

_Derek narrows his eyes._

_“Its ok if you do too. There’s no shame in it.”_

_“I won't give him the satisfaction.” Derek mumbles, opening his book to his marked page._

_“Mmm. Right. I forgot you’re just as stubborn as he is.”_  


~~**~~

  
Derek knows he’s there before the frantic yet precise footsteps reach his front door. The erratic heartbeat. The shallow breathing. The fidgeting feet and hands. He can hear fingers gently gliding over the wood paneling of his home. He can hear the muttered curses and indecision echoing from behind his closed door.

Derek leans his forehead against the door and closes his eyes. He knows he has to do this. He knows if he doesn't just confront all this now he may never have the chance again and it needs to be done. He knows he needs closure. Once and for all. Whether Stiles has decided to stay in Beacon Hills just to torture them all and himself or if in fact this is just some publicity stunt and he plans of making his way back to LA in pure Oscar winning leading man form perhaps even joining the church of Scientology or whatever celebrities are doing these days; Derek knows either way he has to let go. 

And seeing him is the only way. 

He takes a deep breath, grips the door handle and pulls it open. 

Stiles is kneeling on his front porch, white knuckles curved around his jeaned knees, head down in shame. It makes Derek’s heart break in millions of different ways. It reminds him of the young boy he used to know all those years ago. Still growing up, still fighting the demons in himself and in town. The boy who would have given his life for his friends. 

When he hears the soft sob, Derek can't help but kneel down too. His palms itch to reach out and touch him, but he doesn't. He keeps his hands balled up in fists at his side. 

“Stiles. Look at me.”

The boy shakes his head, sniffling, reaching up to wipe his nose on his leathered sleeve. 

“Yes. Look at me. Now, Stiles.”

The boy finally looks up, eyes red from crying and black circles underneath from lack of sleep. Or too much sleep. Derek isn't sure which one. He hasn't seen Stiles look like this since right before and right after the Nogitsune which feels like decades ago. 

Derek shakes his head. “Get up. Let’s get you inside.” He finally reaches out, knowing how much he is going to regret it later, and grabs hold of Stiles around his bicep. Derek hoists him up, and Stiles leans against him for support. Or comfort. Derek isn't sure which one. 

Either way, it doesn't matter. 

Derek closes the front door quietly behind him and leads Stiles into the living room. He sets him, as if like some sort of rag doll in the middle of the couch and heads into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. When he returns, Stiles is exactly where he left him, same position, same look on his face.

“How long?”

“Huh?” Stiles blinks, but continues to stare at something inside Derek’s living room which is quite honestly giving Derek the creeps. 

“How long have you not been sleeping?” Derek puts the bottle of water in front of Stiles face, shaking it until his hand finally reaches up to take it. When his fingers brush Derek’s, he yanks his hand away so suddenly they both lose grip of the water and it falls to the carpeted floor with a small muffle. They both leave it.

“A while.”

Derek sighs and sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of Stiles. “And it took you this long to say or do anything?”

“Didn't know what exactly I was coming back to.” Stiles admits.

“Your father for one. He understands. He always did.”

Stiles nods, leaning down to pick up his almost forgotten water. “Sure.”

“Nightmares?” Derek asks softly. Stiles nods.

“Before or after the movie?”

“During. When the scenes got really dark.” He looks up. “I told you it would happen.”

“Stiles, you did not become your character. Stop pulling that Heath Ledger/Joker bullshit.”

“No. I didn't become my character. I already was him.”

Derek saw the movie. Even though the character was named Derek, he was Stiles in every essence that it could be. Stiles brought everything he was into that character and in all actuality when you watch the movie, it’s just like watching Stiles. But on a screen. Like he is living inside your television.

And it was the most terrifying thing Derek had ever seen. Stiles had won an Oscar for being himself. For reliving every horrible nightmare and feeling that destroyed him as a teenager for the entire world to see. He made people feel what he felt. 

But they didn't live it with him. Derek did. Derek watched this boy become a man too soon. He felt every fear evolve into a nightmare because they were his nightmares too. 

“Maybe that’s true.” Derek finally says. 

Stiles shrugs. “I didn't come here so you’d take care of me.”

Derek musters a small laugh. “Of course you did.”

Stiles’ eyes shift up to Derek’s face, searching for something Derek isn’t quite sure he has left in him. “Why do you think that? I don’t need you to take care of me.” Stiles voice rises with anxiety and anger. Derek can feel it starting to radiate through his skin. “I’ve taken care of myself for the last 4 years without any help from anyone.”

“You’re right.” Derek leans back, folding his arms. “You have a roof over your head, you don't look malnourished and you don't have a drug problem which in all honesty surprises the hell out of me, but if you didn't need help you wouldn’t be back here.”

“Maybe I just missed my dad. And my home town, ever think of that?” Stiles spits out, fire in his voice. 

“Bullshit. You’re here because you’re not sleeping because the nightmares are back. Worse than ever. You ran from here. And now you came back here to see what’s real. Because you aren't sure anymore what are nightmares and what’s reality.”

Stiles stares at him, life draining from his face. “It’s all a nightmare.”  


~~**~~

  
__  
“So that’s it? A year of my life spent with you and you just decide it’s not working for you?”

_Stiles shoves the rest of his clothes in a duffle bag and even though he’s worth millions of dollars and has an Oscar under his belt, this feels like a horrible soap opera high school breakup. All they need to do now is divide their DVD collection.  
Problem is Stiles knows the Star Wars trilogy is his. Zach is more of a Star Trek fan. _

_Loser._

_“Don’t act so innocent, Zach. You knew what this was from the beginning.”_

_“Maybe so, but it grew into something, didn't it? You can't honestly tell me you feel nothing for me.” He demands._

_“I care about you, yes. But no I don’t love you. And I doubt I ever could.” Stiles zips up his bag, searching the bedroom for anymore reminders of himself._

_“Is this about him? Derek?”_

_Stiles narrows his eyes. “We don’t talk about my life before, remember? Less for you to tell TMZ once I’m gone.”_

_“You scream his name out, you know. At night. When you're trashing and I have to hold your arms down from flailing and practically knocking me unconscious in your sleep. You scream his name. So don’t tell me this isn't about him. Or where you came from or who you were before I knew you. Before the movie. Because you don't need to tell me in words, Stiles. Your actions and your face tell it all. And all I need to do is watch the movie to know who you are. Who you really are.” Zach throws a red hoodie in his direction, mumbling something under his breath._

_“So what? You gonna run to People magazine now and give them the exclusive interview on what it was like to be in a relationship with Stiles Stilinski? Huh?” Stiles demands, slipping his arms through the hoodies sleeves. It makes him feel like he’s home._

_“No, Stiles. Contrary to what you may think of me, I’d never do that. I don’t need to sabotage you. You’re well on your way to do doing that all on your own.”_  


~~**~~

  
When Stiles eyes flutter open, it’s dark. There’s a soft light shining into the room from a distance but it’s quiet. He feels the softness of a blanket on top of him and he lies there for a few minutes just taking in the quiet. He can hear the soft clang of pots and pans and running water every couple of seconds, but he is so settled into the couch, it’s barely bothering him. He wonders if this is what it would have felt like to live with Derek. To feel the quiet and calmness every day, all around him.

He sits up, stretching a bit before padding, barefoot he realizes quickly, toward the light of the kitchen. Derek looks up, hands in the sink, when Stiles appears in the doorway. 

“You sleep ok?” Derek asks, turning the faucet off and wiping his hands on his jeans. Stiles nods. 

“How long was I out?”

“A while.”

“Where’s Scott and Lydia?”

“They are staying at Melissa’s. They know you’re here. They thought it best if they stayed clear until…” Derek trails off, swallowing hard. 

“Until we hash this out.” Stiles finishes. 

“Something like that.”

Derek wipes the counter with a sponge. “You hungry? I have leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

“Did you or Scott make it?”

“I did.”

“Then I’ll have some.” 

Derek gives him a small genuine smile before nodding and opening the fridge. It almost feels like old times with Stiles showing up at the loft, hungry, tired and just in need of company that was unbiased. That’s really when it all started. The late night silence between them when all they wanted was the company. Someone to shield the darkness. 

And it’s helping. Stiles almost feels like himself again. 

Stiles eats, and even though its 2 day old meatloaf, reheated in the microwave, it’s the best meal he’s had in a long time. He’s eaten at 4 star restaurants with meals prepared just for him. But it doesn't compare to the home cooked meal in front of him. Sure, the mashed potatoes are lumpy and since it’s been reheated the meat is a bit dry, but Stiles doesn't care. He’s with Derek.

When a beer is set in front of him, Stiles picks at the label instead of opening it right away. Derek leans on the counter in front of him. 

“How long are you staying?”

Stiles looks up into green eyes. It makes his stomach flop. “Depends. If I’m welcome here.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Beacon Hills is your home. Who’s to say you aren’t welcome here.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

The silence now was deafening. Derek stands, his fingers curling into his palms.

“Sorry.” Stiles mutters, hopping down off the stool at the kitchen counter. “Uh, thanks for the food. I’ll see myself out.”

“So that’s it?” Derek yells. Stiles stills. “You come in here like a fucking tornado after years of being dormant, destroy everything in your path, drugging up things long hidden and just breeze back out like nothing ever happened?”

Stiles laughs. “Leave it to you to make such a profound metaphor.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Derek’s voice is like venom. 

“I know.”

“Then do something about it. Just don't come here like a wounded puppy. You’re not the only one hurt here, Stiles. You hurt everyone. We all still have nightmares. But we stayed. We dealt with them together.”

“So this is about me doing something with my life? For getting out? Just because you all decided to settle and stay here in this town-”

“You don't get it.” Derek interrupts. “We didn't settle. We’re together. We chose to stay together. To deal with it, as a pack. And you could have done something with your life WITHOUT leaving us all behind.”

“It was too hard!” Stiles screams, getting in Derek’s face. “I wanted to be normal!”

“Well guess what? You’re not normal. None of us are normal and we never will be!” Derek growls back, eyes flashing. 

“Then I don't belong anywhere! I don’t belong here, I don't belong there. I belong NO WHERE.” Stiles is shaking now, tears burning his eyes and chest tightening that he feels as if his heart is about to explode from his chest. This isn't what he wanted. He didn’t want to fight even though he knows it was inevitable. It is him and Derek after all.

Derek shakes his head. “You’re wrong. You belong with me. You always have.” His hands are snaked around Stiles face in mere seconds and their lips mold together in heat and passion. And Stiles knows Derek is right. Not about belonging with him, Stiles always knew that, but this isn't settling. This is what home really feels like.  


~~**~~

  
__  
“You look like shit, Stiles. You’re not on anything are you? I mean I could possibly work with that as a cause for your recent insanity. Please tell me its pills or coke or something.” Bruce sits across from him, leaning back in his leather chair, his dark oak wood desk shining and Stiles wonders if his success bought that for him.

_“I’m not on anything. I’m just done.” Stiles picks at the hole in the knee of his jeans. “I’m tired.”_

_“Well you should have thought about that before you moved here and signed up for all this. Do you have any ideas how many directors are knocking down my damn door begging to work with you? Spielberg, Coppola, Nolan, Tarantino, Burton. Shit even David Lynch wants you in the lead role for his new insane movie. You have your pick of any movie you want. Anyone and its yours. And instead you come here to tell me you’re just...done. What do you think you’re gonna do now? Go back home to your Podunk town? And do what? Wrangle cattle?”_

_“I don’t know. I don’t care. I can’t do this anymore.”_

_“Oh yeah cause your life is so hard here. Being loved and admired by everyone. Making millions of dollars to practically do nothing! I am so sick and tired of you pretty boy actors crying about how hard it is. You make me sick.” Bruce shoves himself away from his 10,000 dollar desk and waves his hand at Stiles. “Get out of my office. You’re a dime a dozen. There will be another one of you tomorrow begging outside my office for a glimpse at what you have. So go. Just don't come crawling back to me when you’ve spent all your money and have nothing.”_

_Stiles stands, and gives him a small smirk. “I already have nothing.”_  


~~**~~

  
Derek can still feel himself inside Stiles. There were broken chairs. Pictures off the wall, smashed on the hardwood floor. Reminds Derek of their first time.

It smells like sex on every surface of his home. It smells like him and Stiles mixed together. And he likes it. It’s what the house has been missing. It already smelled like pack because of Scott, Lydia, the every few month’s visits from Isaac, even from Chris, Melissa and the Sheriff. But now, it’s complete. 

Stiles sighs happily next to him, face smushed into the pillow, bare ass in line with the cool breeze from the open window. Derek remembers he likes that. To feel the air on his sweaty skin. 

“That was awesome.” Stiles mumbles. He groans, pushing his spent cock into the wet spot underneath him. “I feel so open.”

“That’s because I was inside you for 2 hours.” Derek runs his fingers delicately over Stiles back. He practically purrs. 

“It was awesome.” Stiles repeats. He wiggles a little more into the mattress and sighs again, happily.

“You seem better.” Derek laughs. He memorizes the moles on Stiles skin, just in case. He doesn't know how long this will last this time. 

Stiles turns his head, half his face still stuffed into the pillow. “I’m always better with you.”

Derek feels his chest tighten. It isn’t fair. It isn't fair that he has Stiles here and tomorrow he will most likely be gone. It isn't fair how he gives in so easy to the honey brown eyes and the limbs and the moles. The sounds that escape his mouth. The curve of his body. The mind that Stiles hides now behind scripts and lines. 

“So what now?” Derek has the balls to ask now. Years ago he wouldn't have been able to. He wasn't able to back then when he left Stiles million dollar mansion in LA, kissing him one last time. He had hope then. He thought even though Stiles was a mere few hours away things would be the way they were meant to. Them together, despite the distance.

But Derek isn't that naive anymore. He knows better than to hang on hope.

Stiles furrows his brow, emerging a little more from his cocoon of pillow. “What do you mean?”

Derek sits up. “I mean how long before you go back? How long before you leave? How long before I have to bury this memory like all the rest so I can get out of bed every day? A bed that now smells like you. Fuck, what was I thinking?” He mutters on the last sentence. 

“Derek…” Stiles begins sitting up as well. “I told you. I’m not leaving.”

“Right.” Derek snorts. “You’re just gonna leave everything back in LA behind.”

“Yes.” Stiles says so matter of factly, Derek almost believes it.

“Stiles, don't. Don’t make empty promises. It’s not fair. To you or me. Or to Scott and the rest of the pack.” Derek climbs out of bed, pulling his sweatpants on. 

“You don’t believe me.” Stiles sounds...hurt. Derek is dumbfounded.

“Of course I don't believe you. How could I?”

“Why don’t you?”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right? Why don’t I? Let’s see maybe because after we slept together for the first time I never heard from you again? Because after I left LA not 2 weeks later I see on TV you and that guy kissing and making googly eyes at the cameras? Because your relationship with him was all I heard about in every coffee shop...anywhere I fucking turned?”

“Zach. His name is Zach.”

“I. Don’t. Care. So yeah, I don't believe you, Stiles. I don't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth.”

“Then why am I here?” Stiles whispers. 

Derek sighs. “Because I’m a glutton for punishment? Because no matter what I care about you and you were crying and I know how bad the nightmares are and I’m worried about you. Because…”

“You love me?”

Derek closes his eyes and sits heavily on the bed, his back to Stiles. “Yes. Because I love you, Stiles. That hasn't changed. I doubt it ever will.”

“I love you too, you know. That’s why I’m back. Because I can't run from you anymore. I can't run from this place. Or what I’ve been through. I can't run from Scott and what happened to him or Lydia or any of them. I can't run from Alison's death anymore, or anyone else who’s died. Because the darkness has always been a little less scary with you around. And in LA, no matter how many lights I leave on, the darkness always wins.” Derek feels a small touch on his shoulder. “What can I do to make you believe this is it for me? That you’re it for me?”

Derek turns, his eyes adjusting to the dark and sliding over Stiles’ soft features in the moonlight.

“You could move in.”  


~~**~~

  
__  
“What are you in the mood to eat?” Zach asks, rubbing the towel through his dark hair. Stiles looks up, squinting through thinking eyes.

_“I need a burrito. Stat.” He closes his laptop and swings his legs over the side of the bed, stuffing his socked feet into Vans._

_“Mmm. Yes. That place up the street has amazing veggie burritos.” Zach drops his towel, digging through drawers for clothes._

_“I will never understand your lack of meat consumption.” Stiles stretches, yawning from their lazy Sunday lack of activity._

_“It’s better for you.” Zach pauses, turning to face his boyfriend. “Can I wear this?”_

_Stiles looks at the black t-shirt in his hands and his chest immediately tightens. He’s across the room in 1 second flat, yanking the shirt from his hands and cradling it against himself like a newborn child. “No! I mean, it’s dirty.”_

_“It was in the drawer. If it’s dirty, why was it in there?” Zach asks, brow furrowed._

_“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe Sylvia messed up. But I remember wearing it yesterday. Maybe I put it back in there by mistake. But yeah, it’s dirty.”_

_“Who cares if you wore it yesterday?” Zach goes to grab at the shirt but Stiles keeps it close to his body. And as if a light literally goes off in his head, Zach frowns and steps back. “Oh. It’s his, isn't it?”_

_Stiles doesn't say anything. He just clutches the cotton close to him._

_“Right. Well you have fun with your shirt. I’m leaving.” Zach begins to pick up his discarded clothes he had strewn about Stiles bedroom before showering._

_“Zach...I…”_

_“No. Seriously. You’d probably have a better time tonight with that than you will with me anyway.” He isn't even dressed as Zach slams the door._

_Stiles brings the fabric up to his face, inhaling the smell he craves every night._  


~~**~~

“Are you out of your mind?!!!!!!” 

Stiles can hear Scott screaming from downstairs. He sighs and flops backwards onto the bed. He knew this was a bad idea. He had just apologized to Scott and Lydia. Just found his way back into Derek’s bed. How could he possibly just move in?

“Quite a ruckus you’re causing in this house. And it’s only been what? A little over 24 hours. That must be some kind of record. I mean, there hasn't been any drama like this since Isaac slept with Chris Argent.”

Lydia’s voice floats through Derek’s bedroom and Stiles sits up so fast he nearly falls off the bed. 

“THEY DID WHAT?” Stiles yells. 

“Shhhh.” Lydia closes the door behind her and joins him on the bed. “Scott will kill me if he knows I told you. You’re still making your amends.” She flips her hair and gives him a warm smile. “So how’d you get him to cave so fast?”

“Derek?” Stiles shrugs. “I just tried to be honest. Promised him I wasn't leaving. He didn't believe me.”

“Neither do I.” Lydia says matter of factly. 

Stiles nods. “Hence the whole ‘moving in’ thing. I guess he wants to keep an eye on me.”

Lydia squints. “No, it’s more than him just wanting you to stay.” She thinks for a minute. “You’re having nightmares, aren't you?”

Stiles sighs.

“Oh, Derek. Always thinking he can save everyone.” Lydia shakes her head and reaches up to rub the back of Stiles head. 

“He can save me. I just want to be me again. Not Hollywood Stiles. Not the asshole I became. I don’t care about the money. I just want my life back. My friends back.” Stiles admits. 

“Oh honey. You do. Scott is just a creature of habit. It’s me him and Derek for a long time now. He’s afraid of getting hurt. Of Derek getting hurt. Just give him some time.” She wraps her arm around her friend. 

“Maybe I should go.” Stiles stands, searching the floor for his shoes. 

“It’s Derek’s house sweetie. If Derek wants you here, then you should be here. Just rest. You look like you haven't slept in weeks.” She motions back toward the bed and Stiles nods, climbing in and back under Derek’s warm comforter.

“I haven’t.”  


~~*~~

  
“You’re insane, you know that? How can he just LIVE here?” Scott yells in a loud whisper. Derek cringes because he knows Stiles can still hear them upstairs.

“Scott, it’s the right thing to do.” Derek assures him. “Aren’t you glad he’s home?”

“Of course I am! I mean our friendship isn’t out of the woods yet, but we started to rebuild. But him LIVING here? That’s just insane. Even for you.” Scott sighs heavily.

“He’s having nightmares again.” 

Scott’s eyes widen. “Like before?”

Derek nods. 

Scott sits heavily on the couch, his head in his hands. “Fine. But if he leaves again, I’m not gonna be there to pick up the pieces again. I can’t. It’ll be too hard. For both of us.”

“Dually noted.”  


~~**~~

  
__  
There is a soft knock at his bedroom door but Derek doesn’t answer. He hasn't answered in days.

_“Derek?” Scott’s soft but stern voice peaks in through the crack as it is opened slowly. “Dude, you ok? We haven't seen you in days.”_

_“I’m fine.” Derek growls. “Now get out.”_

_Scott enters the room carefully. He stands in the middle, hands in his pockets. “Is there anything I can do?”_

_“You can get the hell out.”_

_“Derek, I know you’re upset. It’s fucked up what he did, but did you honestly think it was going to work out? I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m really not. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love-”_

_“I don't love him.” Derek lies. “Now get the fuck OUT!!”_

_Scott steps back from the fangs and electric blue eyes. He moves slowly as he leaves Derek’s bedroom._

_“I miss him too you know. You’re not the only one in pain.” And then the door closes._  


~~**~~

  
“You ok?” Derek asks when he finally makes his way back upstairs to find Stiles sitting with his back against the headboard of the bed, knees pulled up underneath his chin.

“Yeah. So how much does Scott think this is a monumentally bad idea?” Stiles’ eyes slide shut as Derek runs his fingers through his hair. Derek places a small kiss to his forehead.

“He’s okay with it. You just gotta be honest with us, and not run when things get to be too much. We’re all here for you. We always have been, and we always will be. Just promise me.”

Stiles nods. “I’m just tired. I’m tired of not being with you. It’s fucking exhausting.”

Derek smiles. “I know the feeling.”

“We’re gonna be ok, right?”

“That’s up to you.” Derek admits. “You know where I stand. I just want you back. I want you happy and healthy. The Stiles I fell in love with. We all want that Stiles back.”

“It’ll take some time, but I’ll get there. I’m just gonna need you. And Scott. Everyone. Maybe more than you may want.” Stiles can feel the lump beginning to form in his throat. 

Derek shakes his head. “There is no way that’s gonna happen. Whatever you need, whatever you want, you have it.” He presses his forehead against Stiles’. “I’ve changed too, you know.”

“I can see that.” Stiles smiles. “You’re much more relaxed now.”

Derek nuzzles his nose against his. “It’s because of my friends. Our friends.”

“Ours.” Stiles whispers.

“Always.”  


~~**~~

  
**1 year later:**  
“You nervous?” Stiles adjusts Scott’s tie one more time as his best friend shakes violently.

“No. Why do you think that?” Scott screeches.

Stiles chuckles and smooth’s his jacket down in front. “Okay, you’re perfect. Lydia’s gonna cry.”

“Lydia doesn't cry.” Scott reminds him.

“She will today.” 

There is a small knock on the door and it opens slowly. “Hey.” Stiles’ sees Derek pops his head in the crack. “We’re ready out here.” He steps into the room when he realizes everyone is decent. 

And Stiles’ breath is immediately taken away. Derek looks amazing in his tux. He gives Derek a small smile at the sight of him in his own tux and Stiles’ feels his chest swell. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go find my mom.” Scott hurries past Derek. 

“I’ll be right there Scotty!” Stiles yells to him as Derek closes the door, leaning back against it. 

“Come here.” Derek growls. 

Stiles can't help but be shy as he walks to his fiancée. He nuzzles his face against Derek’s perfectly trimmed scruff and sighs happily. 

“You look beautiful.” Derek whispers against the side of his head.

“Um, have you looked in a mirror? You look fucking amazing.” Stiles mumbles against his dress shirt. 

“If we didn't have to go watch our best friend get married, I’d bend you over that chair and show you just how beautiful you look.” Derek lips are warm and wet on Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles shivers and moans loudly. “Fuck, Derek, you can't say that to me right now.”

“After. I promise. We will stand up there with our friends and watch them get married, dance, eat, dance some more, say our goodbyes, and tonight in the hotel, I promise to have you writhing and moaning.” Derek ruts against him and Stiles keens at the feeling of Derek’s long, thick cock hard and aching in his pants. 

“God, yes.” Stiles kisses him and it feels like the first time. Every kiss feels like the first time with Derek. The past year had been hard. With healing, apologies and mending of friendships. But Stiles Stilinski, Oscar winner, had come out on top with a new job at the Sheriff’s station, a semester of college under his belt, friendships that will stand the test of time, and a fiancé that he thanked the stars above he had every single day. Derek was amazing. Perfect. 

Of course they had their problems. Derek got a little temperamental during the full moon, especially with Scott. And Derek hates it when Stiles leaves his clothes from the day before by the side of the bed. And when he puts his beer down without a coaster. 

And they’ve had fights. Fights that have shook the house down from around them. 

But they always make it through. They always kiss each other goodnight and always clean up the broken lamps or plates after their brawls. 

Stiles knows they are going to make it. They have to. They can't be with anyone else. 

Just like Scott couldn't be with anyone but Lydia after Allison’s death. And now Stiles gets to stand by his side as he takes his vows, and he knows Scott will be next to him when he and Derek finally get married. 

Stiles has made some mistakes. They all have. 

But they were pack. 

“Come on, sexy. Let’s go watch Scott and Lydia get hitched.” Derek opens the door, his arm snug around Stiles’ waist. 

Way better than Hollywood any day.


End file.
